


Sylvain and Bernie Write a Friendfic

by Jill_Stinggay



Series: FE3H Kink Memes Fills [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crack, FE3H Kinkmeme, Friend Fiction, Humor, Multi, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jill_Stinggay/pseuds/Jill_Stinggay
Summary: Felix Hugo Fraldarius returned to his room after a long, hard day on the training grounds. He kneeled before his bed for his nightly ritual. The room was dark except for a few candles providing some light. He pulled out the shrine dedicated to his boar prince, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, his unrequited love.Sylvain and Bernadetta bond the same way any couple does: by writing erotic friend fiction about their fellow classmates.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sylvain Jose Gautier/Bernadetta von Varley
Series: FE3H Kink Memes Fills [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847026
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Sylvain and Bernie Write a Friendfic

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: "Sylvain and Bernadetta are a couple who write fanfiction about their classmates and the faculty, and it's tropey and based entirely on either their perception or little secrets about people that either one is well aware of. They each keep a stack of notebooks under their bed and spend every free day writing more and more.
> 
> Some possible scenarios:
> 
> -Felix is so head over heels for Dimitri he keeps a minishrine in his room and laments poetically about how he can't confess his true feelings to "the boar"  
> -Shamir hates Rhea because Catherine is in love with her and Shamir wants Catherine all to herself  
> -Dorothea has a harem of guys and girls, only she's the one giving foot rubs and feeding people erotic treats  
> -Rhea is so obsessed with Byleth she travels multiple universes to fuck them all, male or female, and carry their babies  
> -Ignatz has one selected student pose naked for his artwork per week  
> -Hilda pretends to be lazy because she gets off on being scolded  
> -Manuela and Hanneman are secretly fucking
> 
> Mix and match, customize them, go wild!"
> 
> This is very silly and I wanted to incorporate more of the suggested scenarios but the first one really spoke to me because I love some good Dimilix cringe. Please enjoy.

“No, no, no good! Think Bernie, think!”

Bernadetta slammed her quill on her desk with a sigh. Damn writer’s block. All these ideas for stories, and yet she couldn’t put the words together to tell them. She tore the piece of paper on which she scribbled from her notebook, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at the door just as she heard a knock.

“Ah! Who is it?” she squeaked, even though she already knew who it was based on the time.

“It’s me Bernie. Let me in.”

Bernadetta slowly opened the door to find Sylvain, as she expected. They had been writing stories together for about a month, shortly after they began dating. They became closer once Sylvain was able to convince Bernadetta that he genuinely enjoyed her writing and he wasn’t out to humiliate her. She wouldn’t need to throw him or her books into a fire after all.

She gradually let him read more of her writing, and one day he suggested that it would be fun for them to write stories together. Bernadetta was pleasantly surprised – she never imagined anyone would enjoy reading her writing, let alone want to write with her.

Of course, with Sylvain being Sylvain, the subjects of their stories took a turn from Bernadetta’s usual writing about adventurous heroines and carnivorous plants. He thought it would be fun to write stories about their classmates and the Garreg Mach faculty. Bernadetta was reluctant at first, embarrassed and horrified at the thought of someone finding their notebooks. But Sylvain was persuasive and convinced her that if they hid the notebooks inconspicuously, then everything would be fine. The notebooks were evenly distributed between them and hidden underneath their beds.

While Sylvain had a way with spoken words, his skills did not translate to paper. Sylvain presented the idea of writing stories with Garreg Mach faculty and students to Bernadetta with a story entitled ‘Dorothea’s Opera House Harem of Tomboys and Himbos’. The writing quality was laughable, full of run-on sentences and awkward descriptions and grammatical errors. Bernadetta was both aghast and amused when she read it.

_“Um, Sylvain…why is Dorothea giving Ingrid feet messages? Is she talking to her feet?”_

_Sylvain laughed. “Oh, no, that’s supposed to say “massage”. You know, like a foot rub.”_

_“I see…Why is Dorothea also shoving Gronder meat skewers into Ingrid’s mouth at the same time?”_

_“Dorothea has two hands.”_

_“Two hands to strangle you with if she finds out about this. Ingrid might want to kill you too,” she said with a frown._

_Sylvain shrugged. “That’s nothing new.”_

_“Wait, Dorothea’s also rubbing Ferdinand’s feet and feeding him Saghert and Cream? How is she doing all of this at the same time?”_

_“I didn’t say it was all happening at the same time.”_

_“Well, that’s not exactly clear here.”_

_“All the more reason I need you to help me Bernie!” Sylvain looked at her with pleading puppy eyes. “I need your literary genius in order to fully bring my ideas to life. Will you grant me such an honor?”_

_Bernadetta sighed. “I guess I have no choice now.”_

As Sylvain entered her room, his eyes went downward to the wad of paper on the floor.

“No! Don’t read that!” Bernadetta said a second too late as Sylvain retrieved the paper.

“Stories ideas, I see.” He uncrumpled the paper ball and glossed over her writing. His eyebrows raised at one particular line.

Sylvain looked at Bernadetta with a smirk. “Bernie, I never would have expected you to come up with this idea,” he said, pointing at a bullet point that read _‘Felix with a shrine dedicated to Dimitri because he can’t confess his undying love to him’._

Bernadetta panicked, her cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry! I know Felix is your friend. Please don’t be mad-”

Sylvain chuckled. “Mad? I think this idea is genius.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, Felix may be my friend, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to mess with him. And honestly, between you and me, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he had something like this. He’s like a little kid who picks on their crush because they don’t know how to express their feelings.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re not mad.” Bernadetta breathed a sigh of relief before instantly panicking again. “Oh no. What if Felix finds out and gets mad at me? I don’t want to fight him, he’ll kill me!”

Sylvain rested a hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder reassuringly. “Relax Bernie. I’ve had to bear the brunt of Felix’s anger plenty of times. He’s not getting to you without going through me first. Besides, as long as we keep the notebooks hidden, he won’t find out. He’s not going near my bed, or yours, or anyone’s for that matter.”

Bernadetta relaxed slightly. That settled the issue of what they would be writing together that day. “So…should we start then?”

Sylvain nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Yes, let’s.”

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius returned to his room after a long, hard day on the training grounds. He kneeled before his bed for his nightly ritual. The room was dark except for a few candles providing some light. He pulled out the shrine dedicated to his boar prince, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, his unrequited love._

_The shrine included an assortment of things he had covertly procured from Dimitri. A lock of blond hair, a used napkin from the dining hall, a spare glove he had dropped after they sparred. He put on the glove sometimes and marveled at how much bigger Dimitri’s hands were than his own, a fact he found irritating…yet somehow erotic._

Bernadetta stopped writing and looked at Sylvain. “So, uh…what now? Does he have anything else in the shrine?”

Sylvain eagerly took the notebook and began writing, as though he had been holding onto his idea for a while.

_His most prized possession was an elegant painting of Dimitri, nude except for a cloth draped across his hips, leaving little to the imagination. He was lounging, sunlight spilling in front the windows and highlighting his muscular build. Felix commissioned Ignatz to make the painting, insisting it was for Dimitri’s birthday. Ignatz knew better than to ask why Dimitri would want a painting of himself nearly nude._

Bernadetta’s cheeks flushed deeply at the mere thought of the crown prince of Farghus in such a state of undress. Sylvain knew that part would elicit such a reaction from her. That’s partly why he wrote it. She was so cute when she blushed.

“You…you really think Felix would do something like that? And Ignatz would…agree to do it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. We could say it’s connected to our other story where Ignatz paints a student in the nude every week. Except it’s His Highness, so in proper princely noble fashion, he has to cover up the crown jewels.”

Ah yes, Bernadetta remembered that story from last week. The one in which Lorenz paid Ignatz a handsome sum of gold to paint him naked with a cup of tea. With instructions to paint his genitalia ever so meticulously.

Sylvain set down the quill. “And here we should write something about Felix lamenting about how he can’t confess his feelings to Dimitri and he can’t tell anyone for fear of being mocked.”

Bernadetta stared at the paper for a minute before taking back the notebook.

_“Dimitri. Boar,” Felix muttered, his eyes fixated on the painting. “You oblivious, dense idiot. How can you not see through my façade? How I long for you?”_

_He sighed and rested his head in his hands. He felt ridiculous for saying such things aloud. He could only hope no one was listening._

_“Why did you have to be the heir to the Kingdom? If you weren’t, then maybe…maybe I could tell you, and we could be together. But alas, you must find a queen to carry on the Blayddid bloodline, something which I cannot do. Such is the cruel fate given to me by the goddess.”_

Sylvain started cackling so loudly that Bernadetta flinched. The thought of Felix professing his love so dramatically to a shrine of Dimitri was hilarious. He wondered if he’d ever be able to look at Felix or Dimitri the same way again once this story was finished.

“Oh no, did I go too far? Is it that bad?”

“No, not at all. I love it. Let’s keep going.”

Before she could ask what he meant by that, he took the notebook again.

_Felix grabbed the painting and kissed Dimitri on the lips before moving downward to his neck, his chest, and finally to where the cloth met his lower abdomen. He moaned softly, agonizing over the thought that this was the closest thing he would get to intimacy with the Faerghus prince._

_He put Dimitri’s glove on his right hand and inhaled the faint smell of sweat and leather. He reached down and palmed at his growing erection before freeing it from his pants._

“Sylvain! No! This is so wrong!” Bernadetta sounded frantic but Sylvain could tell she was holding back a smile and laughter. There was no way she didn’t find this at least a little bit funny. “I can’t believe you’re-“

“Calm down Bernie, it’s just a story.” He set the quill and notebook aside for a moment and put an arm around her. “Look at it this way, Felix can’t be scary if every time you see him you imagine him jacking off to an erotic painting of His Highness, right?”

Bernadetta giggled. “That’s…a good point, actually.”

“Right? It’s like that old trick where you imagine people naked when you’re giving a speech. Makes it less intimidating. This is just a more fun version of that.”

She smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess it makes sense.”

“Let’s keep going.” He handed her the notebook, her cheeks still flushed. She had no idea how to describe a guy jacking off, or any sexual acts for that matter. But she had nothing to lose by giving it a shot.

_Felix stroked his stiff member as quickly as he swung his sword upon the battlefield. The glove created a painful yet pleasurable friction against his skin. He broke a sweat with how much mental and physical intensity he felt building up as he imagined pressing his bare chest against Dimitri’s. He pictured their tongues clashing, like a swords dance, fighting for dominance. Finally with a deep groan he spilled his seed all over the glove. He quickly tucked himself back into his pants, cleaned the glove, and returned it to its place in the shrine._

“Wow Bernie, I’m impressed. Such poetic description.”

Before Bernadetta could thank him, she heard a knock at her door again. She yelped and hid under her bed. Sylvain recognized that knock, soft yet assertive. He walked to the door and opened it to find none other than Dimitri standing there.

Bernadetta’s heart sank. Oh no. What if Dimitri heard them, knew they were writing such stories about Felix secretly lusting after him? She’d have to burn all the notebooks.

“Ah, Your Highness! To what do I owe this honor?”

“Hello Sylvain,” Dimitri replied in his usual formal demeanor. He was surprised to see Sylvain in a girl’s room fully clothed. “I was wondering if you have seen a leather glove anywhere. It seems I have lost one of mine.”

It took all the restraint Sylvain could muster to not to burst out laughing. There was no way this was happening. There was no way it was a coincidence…was it?

With his best poker face, Sylvain said, “I’m afraid I have not seen any gloves around. Have you checked the training grounds? Maybe you dropped it there and Felix found it.”

“Ah yes, good thinking. I’ll go check there at once.” Dimitri was completely oblivious to the laughter Sylvain was containing. “Thank you, Sylvain. Say hello to Bernadetta for me.”

“Will do, Your Highness.”

Sylvain shut the door and waited until he heard Dimitri’s footsteps fade before erupting into a fit of laughter. Bernadetta’s mouth hung open as she was rendered speechless.

Finally, once Sylvain had regained composure, Bernadetta said, “Um…did we…did that just…”

Sylvain knew what she was trying to say. “Did what we wrote just become reality? Maybe. Reality is stranger than fiction, after all.”

-

Felix returned his sword to its sheath as he wrapped up training for the day. In the corner of his eye, he spotted something black on the ground. He turned around and crouched down to pick it up.

A glove. Judging by the size and leather quality, it had to belong to Dimitri.

Felix’s gaze drifted to one side, then the other, as if looking for hidden enemies. Once he determined there was no one around, he tucked the glove into his pocket and left the training grounds.


End file.
